Ever Since He Walked Away
by Lilthinker15
Summary: Ever since he walked away, Rory has not been the same. And she plans on fixing that.


Ever Since He Walked Away

Ever since he walked away, Rory has not been the same girl. She lost a little bit of herself when the confident, blonde boy said goodbye to her for good. She never realized how much he had completely changed her until he was gone and she had to come to terms with all those changes; realize that a lot of them didn't make sense anymore without him around. No, she'd never completely fallen into his trust fund trap, but she did gain this confidence, the familiarity with things that cost money that all of a sudden felt superfluous and ridiculous when she didn't have a rich boyfriend anymore. She had grown to hate being alone. She had grown so used to his warm presence against her in sleep, or his lips on her neck while she tried to read. She used to be so independent. And sure, she still was independent, capable of making her own decisions… capable of getting her own damn avocado tree if she wanted to. But… being completely alone for the first time kills her. Walking to the bus to start the campaign trail, she can almost hear a voice in her head telling that she's going to be fine. And, surprisingly, it's not the voice of the woman who raised her, guided her, loved her. It's his voice. For the last three years of her life, it's always been his voice. And it's his hand she can almost feel on her lower back, guiding her towards the rest of the reporters. It's his lips she can almost feel on her cheek. And that has to change. She's poor, now, making next to nothing. And she's alone now, completely alone. She doesn't know any of these people. And, the only person who seems to be one hundred percent on her side anymore is her mother. She better get that voice back in her head.

Ever since he walked away, Rory has missed him terribly. She misses his smile. She misses the way he kissed her, like it was the most important thing in the world. And, honestly, she's pretty sure he believed that it was. She misses feeling like the most important, beautiful person in the world. She misses the warmth of him next to her in bed and the feeling of his arm thrown so confidently over her shoulders, or the way he never seemed to be able to let go of her hand. She misses him, his confidence, his love of his work, his carefree attitude, his impulsiveness. He balanced her self conscious tendencies and freak out planning habits perfectly. She misses the way she loved him and the way he loved her, unconditionally, beautifully, perfectly. She loved him more than she loved Dean, more than she loved Jess. And that love made her feel alive as nothing else had before or has since. She misses that most of all. The way her heart beat quickened whenever he was around, the way she couldn't help but smile whenever she was around him, she misses that.

Ever since he walked away, Rory has been thinking of all his grand gestures. She claimed she'd grown out of them. But, honestly, she loved every single one of them. She adored when he showed up at the apartment unannounced, and she especially loved when he showed up on the roof. She even loved when he drove to the wedding to see her. She loved the way he loved her.

Ever since he walked away, Rory has wanted him back. She made the biggest mistake of her life when she said no to him. It was a worse mistake than losing her virginity to Dean. It was a worse mistake than throwing away everything with Dean for Jess. It was a worse mistake than almost dropping out of Yale. She had almost said yes, right when he asked. Of course she would marry him! She'd do anything for him. But after that brief moment of sureness, all her doubts had come rushing in and she had said that she needed to think. Now, she wishes she'd married him, gotten a job at a newspaper in San Francisco, or San Jose. She could have even written for an online newspaper, gotten some experience, and then tried for the New York times again in a couple years, when Logan was ready to move to the city again. She could have. But she was young and foolish that day, nearly a year and a half ago, and she thought she knew what she wanted. She thought she wanted all the doors open to her at all the newspapers across the country. Then, she'd closed the doors by taking this job on the campaign trail. It was a fantastic job, a great opportunity and she was thoroughly enjoying herself. But it wasn't what she wanted. She wanted a job at a daily. And one of those resumes would have turned into a job at a daily, she knows it. But she got scared. She had no idea where she was going to be, and she didn't even have Logan to fall back on anymore. There was nothing guiding her. And, her whole life, there had been something guiding her, her dreams for Harvard, her mother, her grandparents, her dreams for her career, Logan. And now, everything was open, which was simultaneously terrifying and thrilling. But she got caught in a moment of vulnerability and accepted the job.

And now, the campaign trail had led her to the place she wanted to be very most and very least. They were in San Francisco, which was only a short drive from Palo Alto. She stood in front of the hotel she was staying in, clutching her cell phone. Then she flips it open, scrolls through the contacts and presses send.

"Hello?" the voice on the other end sounds confused. The words stick in Rory's throat.

"Rory? Is that you?" She takes a deep breath in.

"Hey Collin, yeah, it's me. I was just wondering… do you have Logan's Palo Alto address?"

"Um, yeah, let me get it for you. Do you have something to write it down with?" Rory puts down her purse and digs around until she finds her notebook and a pen.

"Yeah, go ahead." Collin recites the address for her and Rory thanks him profusely.

"Collin… don't tell Logan I called."

"Of course, Rory… I'll see you around,"

"Yeah, I hope so," She flips her phone shut, takes another deep breath and calls a taxi.

When the cab arrives, Rory passes him the slip of paper she'd written Logan's address on.

"Can you take me here, please?" The cab driver examines the pieces of paper (it's a little grubby and smeared… she's been folding and unfolding it since she wrote the address down.)

"You got it, Miss." The cab driver turns slowly out of the hotel and starts driving. Rory closes her eyes.

Ever since he walked away, she could see what her life would have been like with him. She could see, in her mind's eye, him at the stove, stirring some sort of food (it always changed depending on what mood she was in) and sipping a glass of red wine as he talked animatedly about his day at work and smiled in that charming, boyish way of his. He would be wearing socks and his gray slacks from work (she'd always preferred the gray slacks on him to black or khaki) and a plain white undershirt. His hair would be slightly ruffled. And she'd think he was the most beautiful man in the world. He would wear a plain, platinum wedding band on his left ring finger and she would wear the simple yet exquisite engagement ring he'd gotten for her. They would entertain guests all the time, his business partners, and the people she wrote with. And when they entertained guests he'd go outside and pick ripe avocados off of a tree that draped charmingly across their back yard and turn them into her favorite, guacamole (she hadn't been able to even look at the stuff since they broke up). They would have children, perfect blonde haired blue eyed children, with his easy smile and her delicate, innocent features. They would be smart, witty, fantastic children and Rory would love them just exactly as her mother had loved her. And their first solid food would be, that's right, avocados. She'd planned it all, dreamed it all. And, in the cab ride to his house, she sees it all. And she wants it bad. She wants lazy Sundays, and her children crawling into their bed late at night because they'd had nightmares. She wants a wedding with Logan at the end of the aisle, looking impossibly handsome. And it kills her that she could have had it all and she'd turned it down.

The cab driver stops in front of a charming house. It certainly isn't what she expected. It's narrow, two stories tall, painted the palest of yellows with a blue door. The shutters on the windows are thrown wide open, they are white and through them she can see olive green curtains gently fluttering. The front lawn is well manicured, emerald green grass and ivy climbs up the walls of the house. Carefully tended roses line the walkway to the porch and Rory admires them to distract herself from what she's doing. She mounts to porch steps and stands there for just a moment before raising her hand and knocking on the door, three sharp taps. If she thinks about it, she'll never do it.

"Just a minute!" She hears an all too familiar voice through the open windows. The door opens a few moments later and there he is. He's wearing gray slacks and a white undershirt. He has socks on his feet and he is drying his hands with a white hand towel. His hair is ruffled.

"Ace?" His beautiful eyes widen in surprise. She'd almost forgotten how much she liked it when he called her that.

"Logan," She breathes. "I know the grand gestures are usually your thing, but I wanted to know what it was like. It's thrilling you know… scary. I don't really know why I'm here. I was in San Francisco on the campaign trail, and I called Collin to get your address and now, here I am. And I'm just now beginning to realize that this was a stupid, stupid decision. You probably don't want me here. You probably have a girlfriend, or a dog or something and you probably don't care any more that I think it's very possible that I'm still in love with you and that I think it's possible that refusing you was the worst decision I've ever made. And I think it's very possible that I want you back more than anything in the world. No, I don't think you want to hear any of that. And I really doubt that you want to hear that in spite of all that, I plan on keeping the job, even if you do want me for some unfathomable reason. I really doubt that you want to hear that I'm here to chase a long distance relationship that will be full of traveling for the next six months. I really doubt you want me. I really don't think you want that. I doubt you want the elegant wedding, and the entertaining of business partners with guacamole. I doubt you want the beautiful children eating avocados as their first real food. I doubt you want the growing old together stuff. I doubt you still want the avocado tree. And I don't blame you. I was awful to you and I shoved have moved past it and gotten my own damn avocado tree at least a year ago. So, I'm just going to go now. I'll call the same cab back, and, one day, at least ten years from now when we both have someone on our arm, we can laugh about this moment in time."

She turns to leave, but his hand closes around her bicep. She stops. They stand like that for a moment in complete silence.

"That's a hell of a long way to go just to say I miss you." Rory smiles, ever so slightly, almost daring to hope.

"Any thoughts in response?" She whispers.

"I miss you too, Ace," Her heart jumps.

"Five words. You only used five words." She manages to sound exasperated past the tears that pour freely down her face.

"Yeah, well, I'm not done yet," He pulls on her arm, turning her around and then leans down and kisses her, the same way he always did. He put his hands on either side of her face like he can't bear the thought of not touching her any way he can. His kiss is so familiar and absolutely wonderfully, and his kiss does not quite demand… it insists on a reaction from her. He kisses her like it's the most important thing in the world. And, when she pulls away, he stretches his neck out to prolong the kiss just a moment more, as he always had.

"So, Ace, would you like to see my avocado tree?" He asks, raising an eyebrow and guiding her into the house slowly.

"Oo, dirty," She smiles as she follows him into the home they should have been sharing all this time.

And she knows that, this time, they really are going to factor each other in. They really are going to make it work.


End file.
